


Freedom

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus is in Azkaban for the death of Albus Dumbledore but will he stay there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The figure huddled in the corner of the cold, dank cell desperate for a bit of warmth. The thin blanket wasn’t sufficient to cover him or take away the chill that seeped into his bones, making him weary. Too tired to stay awake any longer, he fell into a troubled sleep.

“Severus.”

He was startled by the faint whisper. It had been so long since anyone had called him by his given name. Looking up he saw the reason for his present trouble. 

“Severus, I won’t allow you to spend the rest of your life here for doing what I asked of you. When the opportunity arrives for you to leave this place, take it.”

Unable to believe that he would see any relief from his cold, miserable, wretched life he lowered his forehead back to his knees. In Azkaban for murdering Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his generation, it would take a miracle to get him released. Severus Snape had run out of miracles. Despair clouded over him like a thick blanket as he slept, yet provided no warmth. 

When the door to his cell opened he woke up but didn’t stir from his position. It was probably guards arriving to take their fun torturing him as they so often did. He heard footsteps and then a gentle hand touched his hair. 

“Severus.”

For the second time in a day someone gently whispered his given name. A thin tendril of hope rose up within him. He quickly squelched it and continued to rest his forehead on his knees, refusing to look up to see who had the audacity to disturb his sleep with false hope. 

“Severus, I’ve come to take you out of here.”

Snarling, he lifted his face and looked into the emerald green eyes of Harry Potter.


End file.
